Lies By Omission
by TheWitch'sCat
Summary: Is it a lie, if you simply never mention the truth? A snippit of the sequel to Butterfly Effect. *Warning...serious spoilers if you haven't read B.E.


**So, this is a nugget that's been floating around in my head as Butterfly Effect comes to a close. I hope you'll indulge my muse, and really tell me what you think. This may or may not be part of a fic that is Mia's story.**

**If you're new and you're thinking...'what the heck am I reading?'...Mia is Elphaba's five year-old daughter from The Butterfly Effect. Matvei is sort of an uncle or a big brother figure to her. This takes place some years after that. Check out The Butterfly Effect for more.**

**Enjoy**

* * *

Mia was going to be late, again. Irritated, she carefully applied dark liner to her eyes from a pot of kohl. She brushed her eyelids with violet and checked the effect in the mirror over the dressing table. She knew her eyes were her best feature, and she wanted the back of the house to see their unusual color. If she was lucky, she'd have them all forgetting she was green, when they were captured by her eyes. She was in a hurry, though, and Mia wished she had more time to perfect the effect.

_I swear, if Ciciley has one more meltdown right before call time, I'll push her out the window, _she ranted to herself.

Mia heaved an exasperated sigh and wished for the thousandth time that she could have a room to herself. She was spoiled, she knew, from having grown up splitting her time between the castle Kiamo Ko and the Emerald City Palace. She'd always had a room of her own. She'd had several rooms sometimes, because there were no siblings to claim their share of the space. Still, she thought she was a relatively flexible person. She thought she was open-minded and personable enough to tolerate anyone. However, Ciciley was making her reconsider.

Mia had wanted to live at the theater. She wanted the freedom, she wanted to be immersed in what she loved, and she wanted to be away from her mother. But then there was Ciciley, who alternated between throwing clothes around their closet-sized room while she talked incessantly, and sobbing over whatever current lover didn't love her anymore. She often stumbled in close to dawn, usually stepping on Mia in her effort to climb into bed. She wore all the clothes, both hers and Mia's, and she would roll and smoke tobacco until the room was hazy and suffocating.

_Maybe I won't wait… _Mia reconsidered, M_aybe I'll just kill her and get it over with…_

Then she shook her head, trying to focus on her face. She was so engrossed in her makeup, she didn't realize someone had entered the room until a face appeared behind her in the mirror. Mia startled briefly, and then raised an eyebrow.

"Mother?" she said acidly.

"Mia."

"I'm surprised you even know where the theater district is," Mia snapped.

Elphaba said nothing.

Mia studied their faces side by side, understanding why she was often mistaken for her mother from a distance. They'd been reflections of each other since Mia's birth. Their verdant skin, the thick, impossibly black hair, the line of their nose and the smirk on their lips were uncannily similar. Still, as Mia perfected her face, she saw the differences. Her eyes were wider and more gray than brown. Her lips were fuller, allowing her to turn her smirk into perfect pout. Mia was nearly as tall as her mother, but she had more curves, allowing her to fill out her clothes in a way Elphaba never could. Elphaba was the extreme, still lithe and angular, while Mia was softer.

_You are Elphaba, softened,_ Matvei used to say, and Mia couldn't help but agree.

She finally laid down her kohl brush, meeting Elphaba's eyes in the mirror.

"Is the intent to look like a whore?" Elphaba snapped.

"Tell me, mother, what does a _whore_ look like? I believe you have the most experience in that area…" Mia returned, turning to face Elphaba.

Elphaba narrowed her eyes, "I will not have my daughter call me a whore."

"Then what would you call yourself, mother? A liar?" Mia shot back, pulling on her heavily beaded dress.

"Mia," Elphaba crossed her arms over her chest, "No one ever lied to you, not intentionally."

Mia whipped around, her eyes smoldering, "You led me to believe that Fiyero was my father!"

Elphaba looked momentarily wounded, "Fiyero has always loved you, Mia."

"But my _father_ is the Margreave of Tenmeadows! _Avaric_ is my father! And in all this time…every time we saw him, every time our families met, no one ever thought to _tell me_!"

"Mia, you knew. You knew when you were only five," Elphaba tried.

Mia stared at her mother for a moment, shaking her head, "I cannot believe you think that's enough! I was _five_! I thought you _died_ days after that! The whole memory of that time is a fog, because who wants to remember the time someone shot their mother! How did none of you ever think that perhaps another conversation was necessary!"

Mia turned back to her mirror then, and began placing jeweled hairpins in her hair. She nearly impaled herself, she was so angry.

Elphaba took a step closer, trying to explain, "Child…Master Avaric never wanted to interfere in your life. He fathered you, but you were somewhat afraid of him. You've always favored Matvei, and I understand that. No one wanted to complicate your life any further. Master Avaric said he would wait until you wanted to acknowledge him as your father. Things were complicated enough for you, and he felt as though you should have a normal family. All he asked is that he be able to see you. No one meant to hurt you."

Mia turned around, her primping complete, and said in a low, angry voice, "If you thought I knew…then why not tell me the truth? Why not tell me you were sleeping with both of them?"

"Matvei should never have told you that," Elphaba said tightly.

Mia stood, facing her mother with hurt in her eyes, "You made me feel filthy, when you caught me with Corren. We made love once, and I had no idea what I was doing, and you made me feel like a filthy failure! And now…I understand. You hoped I had forgotten. You hoped I'd forgotten that is Avaric is my father. You hoped you'd never have to answer the question of what went on during the first five years of my life! You hoped I would assume you were some sort of virgin bride!"

Elphaba's face fell a bit, "I wanted better for you, Mia."

Mia turned back to her dressing table to retrieve her earrings, "I'm not a little girl, mother."

Elphaba looked at her for a moment, and then said softly, "I know. Believe me, I know."

Mia would say nothing more, and she brushed past her mother in an attempt not to hold up the curtain for the second night in a row.

Elphaba stood there until she heard the first notes of her daughter's voice filtering from the theater above. It was rich, sultry, and undeniable beautiful. Mia's presence filled the stage, and the audience paid handsomely to see her. They loved her, and she melted their hearts with her perfect smile.

_You've always known this was coming. You've always known this is who she is,_ Elphaba tried to tell herself.

Still, she had no idea how they'd reached this point. When had trying not to complicate Mia's life turned into lying to her? When had hoping to protect her from the pain Elphaba had endured turned into calling her daughter a whore? Elphaba sighed, because she had no answers. All she could say for sure is the she was losing Mia. She was losing her to a world of late nights and wealthy men, and she'd known it was coming. Elphaba had seen it coming the first time Mia had stood on a table in the café and belted out a song. She's seen it as her daughter had grown taller, and her awkwardness had become unique beauty. She'd been hit with the painful reality of it when she'd caught her daughter in the arms of her childhood friend, Corren.

_I should have told her then, _Elphaba told herself, _I should have simply told her what my carelessness caused…_

Then, she stopped herself, because the carelessness had caused Mia. Elphaba was horribly torn, because she'd never been able to resolve how to protect her daughter from what she'd endured, while assuring her that she did not regret Mia herself. She'd kept Mia sheltered and safe, trying to compensate for the tragedy she'd had to face as a child. Elphaba had wanted Mia's life to be free from the guilt and self-loathing she'd endured. It had been easier, when Mia had never asked about Avaric, to let it go.

_How could I have known she'd forgotten? Does that make me a liar? _Elphaba asked herself. She had no answers, and Mia was not ready for them if she did.

As she walked back out of the dressing room, Elphaba could still hear Mia singing, enchanting the crowd at the largest theater in the Emerald City. She was the youngest, the newest, but she was the best. Her star would rise quickly and burn bright, and Elphaba feared losing her. She feared the men, the less-talented girls, the greedy theater owners, and the free flowing wine. Elphaba had always feared that this life would use Mia up and then spit her out.

And now, caught in a web of lying by omission, there was very little Elphaba could do about it.


End file.
